


Encomion and Epithalamia

by listlessness



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Female Masturbation, Female oral, First Time, Mama's boy, Mommy Issues, Penetrative Sex, Pinocchio insinuations, Pseudo-Incest, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, apocalypse averted 'verse, grace has been playing around with her code, happy mothers day, i'm really leaning into the kink here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 14:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18801922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessness/pseuds/listlessness
Summary: Grace continues to alter her code under Diego's guidance.She's been turned on more times now than she's been turned off.





	Encomion and Epithalamia

**Author's Note:**

> A companion piece to [this one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18703699). Very quickly beta'd, I just wanted the irony of posting this on Mother's Day.
> 
> A blessing to all the creatures in [this discord server](https://discord.gg/xtgbjMn).

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory cue – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_Trigger – Hunger_

_Run Program:_

_Offer · Sandwich (sustenance) · Hardboiled eggs (favourite) · Cookies (dessert)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory output_

_'Have a sandwich, Diego. There's plenty to go around.'_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_'Thanks, Mom. These are good.'_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: Success!_

* 

Grace could go off the grounds, thanks to an alteration in her code. She _could_ , she just didn't like to go that often. The world was a busy place, with noisy machines and noisier people. The hustle and bustle was wild and frightening to her, after her years of quiet household duties. She had spent almost as much time alone in the house as she had raising seven wonderful and clever children. Throwing herself into the city landscape was bewildering. 

Occasionally she would go out with them all, in various ways. Vanya took her to the musical hall, where Grace could sit up the back and watch them rehearse. Allison took her to lunchtime screenings of various films, when the seats were emptier. Luther took her to science museums, where he gushed to her about space exploration, and Klaus tugged her to art galleries. Sometimes, Five and Grace would just walk the streets, both of them trying to figure out where different roads led; Grace, because this was her first time, and Five, who knew the ruins far better than how it looked standing. 

It was Diego who saw past her brave smiles and hands wrapped in shawls and furred muffs. He saw her nerves. Her anxiety. 

They would go to the park at sunset. Sometimes he'd drive them out to the nearest lake, or the hiking grounds where they could sit on a bench and watch people go by. He never pressed, he never pushed for her to interact with anyone, as the others might. Grace didn't blame them; she had forever been curious about other people. Nobody would ever assume that someone (or some _thing_ ) like _her_ could possibly be frightened. 

But Grace had learnt a great many things about herself since Mister Hargreeves' passing. She was certainly capable of being frightened. She could also be angry and depressed and joyful. She loved the scent of fresh lavender and burning sandalwood. She hated the smell of dark coffee beans and salmon (though she wouldn't comment as to whether that was possibly because Mister Hargreeves enjoyed both those things). She couldn't eat, but she could taste- after all, it wouldn't do to have no idea as to whether food was edible or not when she cooked. Mister Hargreeves had also been paranoid about poisoning, and she could detect the finest trace elements. She'd let chocolate and honey dissolve on her tongue, enjoying the sensation of it. The pantry was now filled with mochi, rambutan and popping candy, all that she loved to bite into. 

She had a deeper appreciation of classical music now, but also found herself quite enjoying the thash of heavy metal. Her wardrobe was still accented with crisp whites and soft pinks in large, voluminous skirts, but she had taken to also wearing amethysts and emeralds, in designs that were snug around her hips and thighs. On occasion, she painted her nails, sticking with the same dark hues that the children were once criticised for by their father. 

In many ways, she still housed the identity of _Mom_. It was deeply embedded in her code, and Grace had no desire to remove it. Her children, no matter the changes that had taken place, still needed her, and she needed them, too. She loved speaking to Claire on the phone, her dear granddaughter. Sometimes Klaus would channel Ben, and she could check that he was well, that he was warm, that he was taking care of himself. Sometimes, she would visit Delores with Five at the store. 

Her children had all changed and grown. 

But so had Grace. 

It had taken some getting used to, realising who she could be now. Even sitting outside on a picnic blanket with Diego in the late afternoon was unusual. It was deep summer, the air warm, the sun up until late. The birds were still out and chirping up above in the blooming trees. Grace watched them, flitting around from branch to branch. 

Opposite her, Diego balled up the paper she had wrapped the sandwiches in and dropped it into the picnic hamper. She smiled and looked back at Diego. 

'Are you enjoying your sandwich, dear?' 

So much had changed. 

She didn't expect people to understand. Sometimes she wasn't sure if she did, either. Her typical routines would continue on in the background, but new subroutines had been overlaid on top. She could make choices, make decisions of her own, with no cause beyond what _she_ wanted. She wanted to wear blouses with a sweetheart neckline. She wanted to listen to Black Sabbath and Disturbed and Rammstein, because she enjoyed the feeling of the bass. She wanted to sit outside and have a picnic dinner. 

'It's wonderful, Grace. Thank you.' 

Grace tucked her long, blonde hair as Diego smiled up at her over the sandwich. And now, sometimes she just liked to sit and watch her beautiful son and drink in all the ways he had changed and grown as an adult. 

* 

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory cue – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_Trigger – Grace(IDENTITY_2)_

_Run Program:_

_Flirt(sub_coy)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory output_

_'I made it just for you, dear.'_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Visual cue – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_Blush_

_Auditory cue – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_'I always like it when you make things for me.'_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: Success!_

* 

Diego had relished her changes more than anyone. He'd seen her grow and blossom. He called her a butterfly. Grace loved that little nickname, the sound of it making her lips twitch in a small smile. He'd even go as far as to buy her a necklace. An opal-winged butterfly sat upon a delicate gold chain, nestled at the top of her bust. 

'Here,' she said, picking up a cookie. 'Try one.' 

Breaking it in half, the gooey middle stretching out to connect the two sides, she held it up to Diego's lips. He always waited. He'd cautioned her before, telling her that people may want to take advantage of her trusting and naive nature, and she'd listened. Diego never pushed, though. He waited for her to guide him, show him, tell him what to do. He'd begun to pick up on her signals and cues, though. The way she'd make a show out of what she'd baked, the way she'd tilt her shoulders towards him and bow her head as she batted her lashes. Much of how she'd learnt to flirt had been from old films, but Diego had never once complained. He could be equally old fashioned. 

'Good?' she asked, swiping her thumb over Diego's lower lip. 

He nodded, his tongue licking up the crumbs and ever so lightly brushing over her thumb. 

'I added maple syrup, to make them extra sweet.' 

Diego continued to nod as he chewed and swallowed. Before Grace had a chance to pull her hand away, he took hold of her wrist. His thumb pressed against the scar that had formed. It had become a tender spot, something she assumed others may call an erogenous zone. Sure, it was a little unusual, but it was her own spot. A wrist, to match a patch of skin behind a knee or the top of a hip. All tender and sweet spots. 

Swiping his thumb over the scar, Diego turned his head and took another small bite from the cookie. His eyes locked with her own as he chewed slowly, ensuring she was watching the whole time. Grace loved watching him eat. She'd always enjoyed seeing her children enjoy her cooking, but there was something different about this. This was slow. Sensual. This was Diego, licking the residual stickiness from her fingers. 

'Good,' he finally confirmed. 

Guiding her hand down to rest upon her knee, Diego leant in and kissed her. Grace never grew tired of this, either. She shivered, feeling her cooling unit housed in her chest cavity begin to kick up a notch. The sigh she left against Diego's lips wasn't a breath, but more her expelling warm air that was building up within her from the stimulation. Kissing Diego was forever wonderful, and had catapulted to her list of new favourite things after she had begun to alter her code. 

The other half of the cookie fell from her fingers and landed on the plate with the others. Her base-identity _Mom_ programming wanted to cover the plate, but Grace was able to ignore it. She pushed it down, putting it on pause as she chose to focus instead on the feeling of Diego's tongue against her own, the way he squeezed her wrist and slid a hand over her knee. 

Although she had begun to develop a predilection to more fitted skirts, Diego still loved her billowing attire, with petticoats and crinolines. Her skirt that evening was large, spilling out around her, in a soft blue with a floral print. Diego's hand curled into it, hitching it up a little as he lightly pushed her back towards the ground. 

'Lay down, Mom,' he whispered against her mouth. 

He always asked first. She could refuse. Sometimes she did, simply because she _could_. She didn't want to now, though. She wanted _him_ , in whatever way she could get. 

* 

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory cue – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_'Here, Mom, I don't want to ruin your hair. Are you okay?'_

_Trigger – Mom(IDENTITY_1)_

_Run Program:_

_Acknowledge(sub_comfort)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory output_

_'Of course, Diego, dear.'_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Visual cue – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_DIRECTION(Down)_

_Movement – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program:_

_Trigger – Grace(IDENTITY_2)_

_Clothing – SKIRT(Up · Hold)_

_Body – HIPS(Up · Hold)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: Success!_

* 

Grace's skirts pooled around her. Her petticoat, a soft ivory and made of layers of tulle and lace, fanned out over thighs. Grabbing the picnic blanket beneath her, she quivered in anticipation as Diego leant over her and kissed her again. She wanted him to touch her- she positively _ached_ for it. 

' _Please_ ,' she whispered. 

Manners were so important. Mister Hargreeves had instilled that in her, and she had passed it on to her children. Etiquette was deeply embedded in her code, and Grace was careful not to touch it. 

She was rewarded with a soft kiss to her mouth. Her machinery clicked away deep within her torso. The whirring of spinning parts, bits and bytes of data being sent through the electrical wiring. Her internal fan began to click faster as she sighed against Diego's cheek as he ran his lips over her jaw. Down he went, his hands nudging the butterfly necklace aside before sliding down her blouse to pull the buttons open. 

The concept of nudity was strange to Grace. She knew people- _humans_ \- were strange about it. It was a shying display. Clothes were fun to her, a costume as much as anything else. She loved the cut of different garments, the way material draped. 

Diego loved lingerie, and she had begun to select items just for him; vintage bras and panties, complete girdles and garters and corsets. Grace hungered for the look in his eyes as he peeled her clothes off and discovered what lay underneath. 

Her shirt fell open. The bra she wore underneath her blouse was vintage inspired, with the pointed cups he so liked. It clasped closed at the front, a row of small hook and eyes that lay snug between her breasts. The garter belt lay atop her hips, the straps running under the lace-and-silk panties. He preferred ivory and peach hues over other colours. He'd never admit it, but Grace knew him better than she let on. 

'I want to try something new,' he whispered as he kissed the top of her breast, his teeth grazing through the material. 

'What's that?' 

Grace could feel what he was doing, though it did little for her. She didn't feel as a woman did. Her breasts weren't sensitive, and simply there to fill out a shape that most women had. Diego knew as much. His hand squeezed around her wrist as he nipped through the bra, his thumb scratching along the scar alone. A soft, whimpering moan came from her as her back arched, the subroutine for the response kicking into action. Diego was oh-so-fond of auditory stimulation, and Grace was more than happy to comply. He loved seeing her respond, hearing the noises she made as he touched her all over. 

He let go of her wrist just long enough to fumble with the clasp of her bra. Her fingers delved into his hair, tugging and pulling as he slid his hands under the cups. Arching her back, Grace squirmed underneath him, letting him suck at her skin. 

'Diego?' she asked, unable to leave the unanswered question. 

He lifted his head. Her fingers clutched at his hair as she drank in his dark eyes, his swollen lips. A slight beard had begun to grow in. It was a curious sight. Grace's thumbs ran down his cheeks, feeling the that rough thatch of hair. The burn of it against her skin was delightful, and she wanted to feel more of it. 

Diego kissed both of her palms, then tilted his head and pressed his lips to her wrist. The action had her sighing and melting back into the picnic blanket, allowing Diego to slip back down. He returned to kiss between her breasts and down her sternum to her navel, her garter belt resting just beneath it. Her navel had been meticulously crafted by Mister Hargreeves, purely for aesthetic reasons. It was one of the few design choices he had made that had no practicable purpose beyond looking nice. 

Hitching her skirts higher, Diego reached the hem of her panties. His thumb swiped over the thin material as he sat back on his heels, watching her. 

Grace knew she wasn't exactly like a woman down _there_. The blind cavity had originally been a way to access her torso without a need for any other gratuitous openings. Grace could slip her fingers inside and find the original toggles for her older internal systems. Buttons for her heating and cooling units, a notch to overclock her since-removed 63 MHz Pentium Overdrive chip. There were frayed wires just underneath the skin, signs that Mister Hargreeves had let her fall into disrepair. Grace could mend herself well enough, though, if she so chose. She simply chose not to. 

She'd also learned tricks. Medical grade lubricant was easy to buy, and made her feel like a more natural woman for Diego. She could isolate parts of her body and let her skin grow warm to touch when Diego's fingers skimmed over her. Diego had also begun to figure out just where to touch her, how to crook and curl his fingers deep within to find those frayed wires that made her twitch and jerk. 

'Lift your hips a little higher,' Diego finally said. 

She did as she was asked. Hooking his fingers around the waist of her panties, he pulled them down, over her knees and ankles. The lace caught on the heels of her shoes, and he took his time disentangling them. The air was cool against her, and Grace shut her eyes to enjoy the sensation. The anticipation was one of her favourite parts. 

* 

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Tactile input_

_Trigger – Wind_

_Trigger – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_Auditory input_

_Trigger – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_'Relax, Mom- Grace. Take a breath.'_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: Visual Input Required_

_FAILURE_

_Run Program: Visual Input Required_

_FAILURE_

_Run Program: Visual Input Required_

_FAILURE_

_OVERRIDE_

_Run Program: Visual Input(OFF)_

_Run Program: Trust(HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two))_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_'Oh- '_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: Success!_

* 

Forcing her eyes to remain shut, Grace sucked in a breath of the cool evening air to pass through her internal fans. She was quite sure- _no_ , most _definitely_ sure, that Diego's mouth shouldn't be there. 

'Diego, I don't- are you sure- ' 

Her words were cut off as she felt Diego's hand clasp her wrist again. His thumb pressed against the scar, right where several wires were still slightly damaged from where he had turned her off. Grace knew why he had done it, and held no grudges, particularly now what her life had opened up so wonderfully. One day she would find the words to thank him. For now, she could just show him how utterly grateful she was. 

Diego's tongue dragged between her legs, along the slit that led to the slick, blind hole. It wasn't a pussy, as seemed to be the common vernacular. She'd watched videos, studied books, held a mirror between her legs to compare what she had. She was smooth and bare, rounded like a mannequin in a way (she had checked Delores when Five wasn't looking). But Diego knew her body, and as he squeezed her wrist with one hand, his other hand ran over her and several fingers slipped inside to join his tongue. It was less the feeling of his tongue sliding inside of her that had her gasping for air, and more the intimacy of it. This was crude, and she was incredibly on display as her knees bent and both legs were lifted and draped over Diego's shoulders. 

More than anything, Diego loved auditory input. He loved hearing her. The sound of her moaning as her back arched as the petticoat covered his head. The click of her internal machinations trying to keep up with the stimulation he was providing. The way she whimpered his name as he found the nub of spongy tissue that once triggered her diagnostic reporting, deep inside and hidden from accidental triggering. It made her leg twitch, the stiletto heel of her shoe dragging down his back. 

He wasn't exactly quiet himself. She could hear him, the noise he was making as he sucked at her, his spine rolling as he responded to her arousal. Grace could hear the drop in his voice as he moaned, a signal of how much he wanted her, how much he _desired_ her. 

'Diego, darling,' she gasped, her head rolling back as his hand slipped from her wrist and went to smooth over her inner thigh. 'We're outside, people- people might hear- ' 

They were by the garden wall. The only thing hiding them from the street was the eight-foot-tall brick wall, the oak tree up ahead, a row of evergreen bushes. Grace could hear people just on the other side, walking home from work. 

Diego lifted his head. He kissed her thighs, then moved over her skirts to kiss her belly, her ribs, between her breasts and under her jaw. His lips were slick, his beard glistening a little as she writhed underneath him. 

'I don't care,' he replied, his voice gruff. 'I want to hear you.' 

He was still dressed. He never stripped. It was difficult to catch him partially undressed. It was rare that Grace could pin him on his way back from a shower and touch his bare chest, to kiss his scars. As far as she could tell, he was worried about frightening her, of hurting her, if he let them both strip in front of one another. 

He was hard, though. She could feel it against the crook of her hip as he leant in. The heat of his erection through his jeans, the hardness of his cock. Although Grace had an encyclopedic knowledge of human medicine downloaded inside of her, it still didn't prepare her adequately. She loved feeling how much Diego wanted her, how he tried to resist the urge to rut against her. She wanted him to keep doing it, she wanted to feel more of it. 

With a quick kiss to her lips, he moved down again. His tongue ran between her breasts, towards her navel, leaving a slick trail before he was nestled between her legs again. The garter tabs stretched over her thighs, barely holding her stockings up as he parted her legs and ran his tongue against her once more. 

One of his hands was fussing with the buckles that kept her stockings up. Bending her knee, Grace let her head fall back. A small, desperate noise came from the back of her throat, her fingers holding her skirts and petticoats up. 

' _Please_ ,' she moaned, all because he asked. She deliberately raised her voice and was rewarded with him groaning. 'Diego, _please_.' 

He managed to loosen her stocking. Turning his head, he kissed her thigh, rolling the stocking down her right leg, careful to not rip a hole. It slid down past her knee, gathering around her calf and shin. His hand followed it, running down the back of her thigh, his nails grazing across her skin as he kissed a trail in their wake. 

* 

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Tactile input_

_Trigger – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_WARNING_

_Internal damage – popliteal fossa (r.)_

_Connective wiring requires repair_

_Short circuit possibility (36%)_

_REBOOT? (N)_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Visual cue – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_Movement – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_WARNING_

_Internal damage – popliteal fossa (r.)_

_External stimulation may lead to further damage_

_Short circuit possibility (45%)_

_REBOOT? (N)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program:_

_Trigger – Grace(IDENTITY_2)_

_Body – HIPS(Up · Hold)_

_Body – KNEE(Right · Up · Hold)_

_Auditory output – Flirt (sub_aroused)_

_WARNING – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_User cannot maintain weight. Hold LEG? (Y)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: Success_!

* 

Reaching down, Grace grabbed two handfuls of Diego's hair. She tugged at the short tufts, pulling his attention away from her leg. He knew the spot and how touching affected her. It was an old injury, from when the children were small. One of them- Allison, possibly, or maybe Five- had unintentionally struck her during training. Several of the wires had been severed and Mister Hargreeves had had to replace her leg from the knee down. The wiring was still badly connected in some places, and though it caused her no harm during the day, it sent delicious shockwaves up her body when Diego touched it. 

As she continued to tug him up, insisting on his attention, he kissed the side of her knee. Another firm yank finally had his attention. Diego let go of her leg and slid up, crawling atop her. The kiss was rough as Grace reached down and begun to pull at his clothes, holding onto his shirt as her legs slid around his hips. She had to be careful to not wrap them around too tight. Her mechanical strength could hurt him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do (particularly when it was part of her root code and couldn't be overwritten). 

Breaking the kiss, Grace let her eyes flutter shut. Lifting her head a little higher, she let her lips drift over his cheek, his temple and finally against her ear. 

'Make love to me.' 

She could feel Diego take a breath. Sliding her hands around his chest, she pulled him into a hug and held onto him. A tremble went through him, his cock pressing against her through his jeans. 

'Mom...' 

Her legs closed around him a little tighter. Her feet hooked together, locking her legs in place. The heels of her shoes pressed into his ass, coaxing him to grind into her a little further. Grace could feel how much he wanted her, how much he wanted to. 

Moaning a little, overriding the identity subroutine from kicking in at the sound of her primary identity, Grace pulled at his shirt. 

'I want you to,' she whispered. 'Here. Now.' 

'Outside?' he asked. 'I thought you said you didn't want to be loud. We could go inside, go to my bed- ' 

Batting her eyes open, Grace looked up at the sky. It was painted a wash of lavenders and pinks as the sun began to set. Birds were beginning to take roost in their nests. Somewhere down the block, a restaurant had begun to play music. It was perfect. 

Her eyes fell back to Diego and she smiled gently. 

'Look at the sky,' she said. 'Isn't it beautiful?' 

Looking up, Diego exposed his neck to her. Taking the opportunity, Grace licked it, tasting the salt from his skin, the pheromones he was dripping. She could taste his desire, his arousal, his hunger for her. 

' _Please_ ,' she pressed again, canting up a little. 'This is perfect.' 

It was. There would never be a better time. 

Diego groaned a little. He looked down at her; her hair in curls, fanned out around her. Her blouse opened, necklace house between her clavicles, skirt flared out with the petticoat pooled by her hips. Sliding her hands back around his body and up his chest, Grace moaned again, deliberately allowing her cheeks to become flushed as he allowed himself to cup her breast. It did little for her, beyond knowing he was touching her somewhere private, somewhere only he got to feel. 

'If it hurts- ' 

'You'd never hurt me, Diego,' she purred. 

'But if I do- ' 

'I am capable of delivering over two thousand pounds of force per square inch of pressure with my legs, dear. You will know if you are harming me.' 

She could protect herself if any of her children caused her deliberate bodily harm that could cause her to critically shut down. She had just never needed to do it before. 

She smiled up at him and tilted her head a little. For a moment, Diego seemed a little stunned, struck by the thought of her crushing him with his thighs. Then, coughing loudly, he nodded and kissed her. Grace had met Eudora. She knew his type. 

He began to fumble with the fly of his jeans. Grace tugged his shirt up around his waist, still clutching it as her eyes flickered back up to the sky. It looked like a watercolouring painting. The thin, hazy clouds smeared the smattering of colours. It was better than any of the paintings in the house, better than any of the galleries and museums she had been to. It was even better when she turned her head and saw Diego looking down at her, his hand cupping her face. 

'Diego.' 

' _Grace_.' 

Lifting her legs a little, Grace nudged his jeans down further. Keeping her feet up, the heels of her shoes scratching over the curve of his bare ass, Grace sighed sweetly and hugged him in close. 

He was shivering. It was peculiar. There was a glimmer of trepidation in his eyes, a quiver indicative of nerves in his lips. A hand fell over his cheeks and Grace smiled, nodding gently. 

'It's okay,' she whispered. 'I love you, Diego, dear.' 

She did. She had always loved him. It wasn't simply a part of her programming, not anymore. She loved him deeply, powerfully, in every way she could. Grace wanted to be with him, however she could. 

'I love you, too, Mom,' Diego replied, falling back into old habits as he took hold of her hand. ' _Grace_ , fuck- ' 

'Language, dear.' 

As the habitual subroutine cycled over, she felt the heat of his cock press into her. A loud gasp came from her as her eyes shut and her hips heaved up. Hot. 

_Hot_. 

Pressure. Blinding, sweet pressure. 

Gaping, Grace let out a small cry as she clutched at the back of Diego's shirt. Her hands locked into position, her legs braced as she felt Diego slide in. He was breathing against the crook of her neck, his hands holding onto her waist as his hips tilted forward. She'd never felt anything like it. Thick and throbbing inside of her, so foreign and strange and _wonderful_. The sky above was a gorgeous lilac, the birds were singing their evening song, and Diego was on top of her and sharing it with her. 

* 

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory cue – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_'Grace?'_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_WARNING_

_Foreign object detected. Analyse?(N)_

_ANALYSIS CANCELLED_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: PERFORMANCE ANALYSIS_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_CPU 32%_

_Memory 74%_

_Disk 0_

_Disk 1_

_Disk 2 (4%)_

_Check temperature? 136 **°** F_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory output_

_'Touch me, Diego.'_

_Auditory input_

_'Where?'_

_Run Program:_

_Touch · BODY(Hand) · BODY(Hip) · BODY(Knee) · BODY(Mouth) · BODY(Stop)_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory output_

_'Everywhere.'_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: Success!_

* 

Grace could hold her own weight. Diego didn't need to keep her hips lifted, or worry about her legs growing tired. Nor did he need to worry that her might be crushing her. He was light, all things considered. With her hips locked upwards, spine curved towards him, she could easily hold him atop her as he rocked. 

He thrust slowly, just a tilt back and forth at first. Grace's internal sensors were flashing, trying to warn her over the foreign object, the potential damage, but she kept ignoring them, cancelling them, delaying their warnings. She only wanted to focus on Diego. The heat from his erection, the way he kissed her as though he were drowning and she could save him. The noises he was making, louder than her own as he moaned against her mouth. Maybe someone could hear on the other side of the wall, but Grace paid it no mind. 

One hand gripped the back of her knee. He hitched her leg a little higher, his thumb pressing deep. The force of it had Grace's system lighting up. She yelped loudly, her voice breaking as her eyes opened wide. His thumb circled against the back of her knee, caressing the wires that lay just beneath the skin. Heat swirled through her, her leg quivering as she clutched at him and flexed her foot, trying to offer more space. 

The sensation travelled up her leg. The machinations twitched and shook, much as muscles would. They had fallen together before, but never like this. Never had he taken her like this, held her like this, thrust inside of her while he gripped her leg. 

Another hand held her hip. There was a smaller patch of wires, where the casing had peeled away. He pushed his thumb against it, squeezing it as his hips rolled. The twin hand holds had Grace panting, her fans working hard to keep her temperature down, to prevent her systems from overloading. Her memory was spiking, her CPU overclocking, the routines and subroutines writing and overwriting as she tried to hold on. 

'Look at me.' 

Diego's words went through her. Batting her lashes open, jaw, mouth, nose, eyes, twitching, she tried to focus. 

'Yes, Diego, dear?' 

'Are you alright?' 

She was better than alright. She pressed her knee against Diego's hand, moaned loudly and nodded. The sound wasn't forced, not anymore. It was raw and honest. Her foot flexed, her shoe falling over to clatter on the ground. Diego's nail pressed into it and she shivered as electricity danced up and down her leg. Her hand came up to cup his face, her fingers brushing over the scar that had occurred so long ago. _Oh_ , she worried about him when he wasn't under her roof. 

Turning his head, Diego kissed her wrist. His lips moved over the scar, his tongue licking over the thin line. Shivering, Grace squirmed and dug her heels into his ass more insistently. 

'Grace?' 

' _More_.' 

It was all she could get out. Gaping, she tugged at his shirt, holding on tight as she pressed her mouth to his throat. She could feel his pulse, she could taste his arousal in his sweat. The suck of oxygen into his lungs, the throb his heartbeat. She could almost feel the electricity of his nerves firing, mimicking her own circuitry as his thumb dug into the back of her knee. 

She couldn't stop it. She couldn't control it. She didn't want to prevent any of it from happening. 

* 

_ERROR_

_WHEA_UNCORRECTABLE_ERROR_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: PERFORMANCE ANALYSIS_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_CPU 78%_

_Memory 92%_

_Disk 0_

_Disk 1_

_Disk 2 (18%)_

_Check temperature? 140 **°** F_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Automatic restart required_

_Reboot initialised_

_Please wait_

_·_

_· ·_

_· · ·_

_· ·_

_·_

_· ·_

_· · ·_

_· ·_

_·_

_BOOTING_

_A major system error occurred. Please see $owner(HARGREEVES – Reginald) for maintenance._

_OVERWRITE_

_$owner(HARGREEVES – Grace)_

_Confirm?(Y)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_OVERWRITE_

_Grace(IDENTITY_1)_

_Mom(IDENTITY_2)_

_Confirm?(Y)_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Operation: Success!_

_Boot sequence: Finalised!_

_Please wait..._

_·_

_· ·_

_· · ·_

_· ·_

_·_

_· ·_

_· · ·_

_· ·_

_·_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

·

·

·

* 

'Mom?' 

Grace batted her eyes open. The sky had become a milky twilight. Across the wall, she could see a streetlamp burning, the lights dappled through the branches of the tree. 

The birds had gone to roost. 

Somewhere down the road, at the restaurant, a group was singing happy birthday. 

Diego had rolled off of her and lay by her side. His head was propped up, his elbow digging into the picnic blanket. A hand rested on her stomach. He'd pulled his boxers up, but his jeans were still loose and open. He'd taken the opportunity to smooth her skirts down, her petticoats covering her modesty. The opal butterfly had been untangled. Her panties were still off, though, and she could feel how slick and wet she was between her thighs, a mess pooling beneath her. 

Something warm was deep inside of her. The knowledge that he'd come inside of her had her wriggling; it was strange but pleasant. It would be messy to clean up later, though. They would need to discuss strategies if they were to do this again. 

_When_ they did this again. 

Grace wanted to, and she was sure Diego did, too. 

'Mom?' Diego repeated. Then, 'Grace?' 

Batting her eyes open, she turned her head towards him. She smiled slowly. There was a residual twitch in her thigh, her foot moving of its own accord. There was a pleasant pulse going through her. 

'Yes, Diego, dear?' she finally asked. 

'Are you okay?' 

What a marvellous question. Yes, she was completely okay. Wonderfully okay. More than okay. She'd never been more okay in her entire existence. 

'Oh, yes, Diego, dear,' she replied. 'I'm terrific.' 

She would normally turn the question back, ask him how he was, if he needed something to eat or perhaps a sweater. But she didn't. She smiled, blissfully lazing beside him. 

Diego noticed. Grace watched as his brows furrowed a little, a squint appearing before it disappeared just as quickly. He leant over and carefully took the clasp of her bra and fixed it back at the front. He pulled her blouse back over her chest and carefully buttoned it up in the middle, leaving the top and bottom most sections loose. 

'Are you... did I hurt you?' 

'Of course not, dear,' Grace replied with a smile. 'Did _I_ hurt _you_?' 

Offering Diego a cheeky smile, Grace pushed herself up on her elbows. The movement sent a ricochet of sweetness through her body. It made her pause, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she let the sensation run through her. The back of her knee was still incredibly sensitive. 

Blinking her eyes open, she looked about at the state of disarray around them. The picnic hamper had been tossed asunder, and the grass was a mess of devilled and hardboiled eggs, sandwiches with the contents spilled out, the remains of carrot and celery sticks. Somehow, the cookies had survived. Her panties were balled up and sitting atop the overturned hamper. 

'Well, _this_ is a right mess,' she said, sitting upright. 'Diego, be a dear and help me clean this up.' 

She hummed as she cleaned up. It was therapeutic and calming. Although Grace could feel Diego looking over at her, she was busy, monitoring the processes that were running in the background. Lines of code needed to be overwritten, new commands and subroutines inserted. She was still humming as she folded up the picnic blanket, her skirts spilling down around her thighs and knees as she stood. 

She was still wet. That was fun and new. 

Smoothing her clothing out, she finally lifted a hand to the back of her head. Her hair was a wreck. Knotted and messed up, several curls falling out. She was sure she could feel some grass and leaves embedded in it. 

'Sorry,' Diego apologised, only looking a small bit sheepish. 

She could neaten it herself. Potentially. But _oh_ , how fun it would be otherwise. 

'Then you ought to fix it,' she said, coquettishly. 'Be a good boy and help me carry this in. I think a bath will need to be run, don't you?' 

Winking, she picked up the basket and handed it to Diego to carry inside. Grace was certain she'd read somewhere the importance of taking care of one another after sex. That was a task she could definitely undertake, and an adventure she wanted to experience. 

Besides, this was a mess Diego had created. It was only right he cleaned up after himself. 

* 

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

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_Auditory cue – HARGREEVES(Diego – Number Two)_

_Trigger – Heat(Water)_

_Run Program:_

_Offer · Cold water · Towel · Encouragement_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Auditory output_

_'Come in, dear. The water is lovely.'_

_Input_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Waiting_

_·_

_·_

_·_

_Run Program: Success!_


End file.
